


Details

by feelsnotfeelings



Series: We Love Camp Campbell [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, POV switch, Timestamp, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5246249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelsnotfeelings/pseuds/feelsnotfeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas opens the door to a fidgety Dean, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and scattered.</p>
<p><em>We Love Camp Campbell</em> timestamp, mid-chapter 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Details

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested for an [ask game ](http://feelsnotfeelings.tumblr.com/post/129453225097/no-excuses-writing-meme-askbox-version) on Tumblr about two months ago. I've been sitting on it ever since.

Cas opens the door to a fidgety Dean, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and scattered. He doesn’t come into the room when Cas steps back, and he doesn’t say anything, just looks him over. _So this is it_ , he realizes, sagging against the doorframe. _Dean’s finally worked up the courage to_ not _not find out what’s between them._  Cas has been hesitant to, wary of taking liberties, careful not to push despite Dean’s assurance that he’d started this, not Cas. He supposes it’s fitting that Dean be the one to take this step, too.

“Dean— ?”

Cas wasn’t expecting Dean’s hand to rise in a rush and cup his cheek, warm and a little sticky. He smells musk in the displaced air, and as the thumb brushes across his lips he wonders whether he could taste it too if he licked them. The thought makes his breath catch in his chest, and he swallows hard.

He can’t look away from Dean’s eyes as he leans in. He knows what’s coming and he doesn’t want to miss a second of it. He can sense how ridiculous he looks, eyes wide like maybe he’s never been kissed before and doesn’t know what to do. Dean doesn’t seem to notice as their foreheads touch, then their noses, and there’s the scent of sweat and exertion cutting through the musk from his hand.

Dean’s eyes flutter closed and a second later comes a whispered "Can I kiss you?"

He probably wouldn’t have bothered to ask if he knew how long ago Cas had started to fall for him. Perhaps since he’d first heard Sam talk about his big brother, who took care of him and made sure he had some semblance of a childhood and asked for nothing in return. Or maybe when he’d moved into the farmhouse, and he and Sam and Jo would sit together in the evenings and he’d listen to them trade stories back and forth. They were rarely about Dean specifically, but Cas had grown curious about the character in the background of most of them, how each one seemed to hint at different side of him— the caretaker, the prankster, the enforcer. Getting to know him, however, had shown that the Dean in Sam and Jo’s stories was just a copy of a copy of the real thing— it captured the essence, but not the details.

Not the way his eyebrows raise when teases, or how he runs a hand through his hair while he reads. Not the way he listens with his full attention. Not the way his skin feels against Cas’s.

He nods, sliding his hands into Dean’s sweat-damp hair and pulling him closer. He wonders just _how much_ Dean intends to find out as the movement causes his arousal to press against Cas’s belly. An answering warmth surges through him, flaring up through his chest and out his mouth in a gasp.

Dean answers his unasked question, pulling away to gasp out, “That isn’t what I came for, swear. This— “ he presses a chaste kiss to Cas’s lips “ — hell yeah— “

Cas interrupts before he can start babbling, kisses him hard and filthy, all sliding tongue and bruising pressure. His hands lock onto Dean’s hips like he could graft them on and keep him always within arm’s reach. He’s waited too long for this, and it’s made him desperate. Dean’s hand has drifted from his cheek to the back of his neck, and the other fists in the back of his shirt between his shoulder blades, drawing him closer.

Cas could stand for hours just like that— until his lips chap and grow numb, until they’re dizzy from exchanging exhales— but Dean pulls away far too soon, relaxing his grip and sliding his arms around Cas’s back in what could only be described as a hug. After kisses like that, a hug is just so _Dean_ , and Cas reels at the contrast.

He’s still reeling when Dean matches their lips in a last, careful kiss and steps away.


End file.
